The Indian Burial Ground Mystery

kind of like detective work!”
    “Exactly,” Professor Conroy said, looking very pleased with her. “That’s
just what I tell my students.”
    “So you can figure out who those Indians were visiting,” Trixie
continued, “and who was visiting them.”
    “You are a very smart young lady,” Professor Conroy said with an
appraising look.
    “She certainly is,” Mr. Wheeler agreed. “One of the smartest young
ladies in town. Both these girls are good students and excellent members of the
community.”
    “Oh, Professor Conroy,” Trixie bubbled enthusiastically, “I don’t mean
to be pushy, but can high-school students work on your dig, too? We have the
summer off, and it would be the most fantastic experience. I just love
mysteries and detective work.”
    Trixie suddenly stopped, and her hand flew up to her mouth in dismay.
She’d done it again—started talking too soon, trying to get in on something she
shouldn’t have. She didn’t even know Professor Conroy, and she didn’t know a
thing about archaeology.
    “Actually,” Professor Conroy said with a kind smile as he turned toward
the Wheelers, “I was intending to ask if you knew any young people who might
like to help out on the dig. There’s a lot of tedious work that needs to be
done. It doesn’t necessarily require any experience or knowledge—just
enthusiasm and a strong back.”
    On hearing these words, Charles Miller suddenly spun around with a look
of shock on his face. His mouth opened and closed quickly. A deep frown
furrowed his brow. Before he could say a word, Mr. Wheeler had started to
speak.
    “I’m quite sure both these girls would be delighted to help. As a matter
of fact, I think all the Bob-Whites would want to pitch in. It’s a wonderful
idea for a summer job.”
    “There would be no pay, of course,” Professor Conroy said, coughing
gruffly. “But the work would have marvelous educational value.”
    “Oh, gleeps ,” Trixie and Honey said in unison,
clasping their hands with excitement. “I can’t wait to tell the others!” Trixie
added.
    Professor Conroy pulled himself up from his chair with a pleased smile
on his face.
    “You do that. I certainly hope they’re all as nice and smart as you two
are. Now, Charles, I think we must be going. We’ve taken up quite enough of the
Wheelers’ time for today.”
    Trixie’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the young man’s shoulders
droop. He threw one last look around the magnificent living room, and for a
moment, Trixie thought she saw a look of desperate longing cross his face. But
it disappeared, and was instantly replaced by the same scowl he was wearing
before. Glumly, he followed Mrs. Wheeler and Professor Conroy out into the
hall.
    Honey dashed over to the couch and threw herself down next to her
father. While she excitedly thanked him for suggesting that the Bob-Whites work
on the dig, Trixie watched the two men depart.
    Then Trixie heard a low hiss.
    “How could you ask a bunch of dumb high-school kids to join us?” Charles
Miller was saying as the front door was opened.
    Trixie strained to hear what Professor Conroy answered, but the door
banged shut behind him. All she could hear was some harsh mumbling. Professor
Conroy sounded very annoyed.
    Moving quickly, Trixie crossed the room to the French windows, hoping to
catch a glimpse of the men. Luckily, the windows were open onto the veranda,
and she was able to pick up their faint voices.
    “Try and behave in a civilized way, you young pup,” Professor Conroy
snapped as they went down the steps. “Getting this burial ground is a stroke of
good fortune for me, in more ways than one. I can’t afford to have you mess up
my carefully laid plans.”
    Charles’s shoulders slumped even further as he walked swiftly to the
car. Trixie smiled happily.
    Talk about stuck-up, she thought as she watched the car drive away. At
least Professor Conroy knows a smart person when he sees one. Charles Miller
will have to get used to the idea that just because he’s in college, it doesn’t
mean he knows everything!
    Turning away from the window with a satisfied look on her face, Trixie
walked toward the front door.
    “Won’t you stay for dinner, Trixie?” Mrs. Wheeler asked.
    “I think I’d better start home,” Trixie replied. “Moms wants me to help
her out tonight.”
    “Come for dinner tomorrow, then,” said Mr. Wheeler. “You know we always
like to see you.”
    “Yes,” Trixie answered, waving